A Reaction to Anxiety
For the most part, people don’t ask me about what I saw in Vietnam. They’ll ask me what I did, and I’ll say that I fought the same as most of our boys that went over there; but never what I saw. Maybe it’s because they’re more protestors that don’t like me, maybe it’s out of respect for what I did, maybe it’s because they’ll think I’m insane; and with what I’ve said I saw, they wouldn’t be far off…
My life was kind of normal for a guy at my age, more or less. I got out of high school a couple years ago, and I was working a little job at a little gas station nearby, and I was looking around for bigger things. My grandmother, who lived just a short ways down the street from us, also passed away at that time and left everything to us. Her house was still in good shape, so I could even count on getting my first real house soon. It wasn’t too bad for a twenty year old at the time. I was just another random American who grew up in the 50s who was starting to venture out into the world.
I didn’t really want to go straight to a college like a couple of my friends did; our little town on the California coastline was actually a ways away from any kind of higher learning. I would’ve liked to eventually, to be honest; problem is I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. Everything I looked at seemed only mildly interesting and important, even the important ones. It felt like I wanted to do something that would have a profound effect on the world, instead of just this little town. The answer to that finally came in the form of the army.
I remember my dad serving back in the Second World War with the 101st. From Normandy to Germany, yea he’d seen it all. I’d always looked up to him in a way; so understandably I was pretty happy when I got into the same division as him, even if he said he’d be proud of me no matter what I did. I just wanted to do more, make him proud, make my country proud…make myself proud. I wanted to do something that mattered; not so much for glory, more like honor. I can’t really explain it, it just felt like something I had to do; like destiny or fate or something.
My parents weren’t too thrilled about it, predictably. Mom nearly had a heart attack and kept babbling about how I was going to get killed by the Russians or some crazy nonsense; though maybe it wasn’t so out of this world. Dad took it more reasonably, but he was also more confused.
“Are you sure about this?” my Dad asked. “I don’t want you to die in some far off place no one knows about in some menial war that doesn’t affect anything.”
“Isn’t that what you did, Dad?”
“I fought a necessary war so that you wouldn’t have to, John.”
“War’s never going to end by itself, Dad; we have to end it.”
My sign up came when I heard things were heating up with Communists in some country called Vietnam. Fighting in some far-off jungle country no one had ever heard about; it sounded like what our marines went through in the Second; wasn’t anything like that, though. This war was an entirely different beast. I signed up out of my own free will; I wasn’t going to wait for them to start up a draft and drag me in.
Maybe my dad’s soldiering passed down to me. Boot camp wasn’t very fun, as expected; but I did show some certain qualities the army was looking for in men. I wasn’t exactly officer material, but apparently I was good enough to lead a squad. A little extra time for an NCO post and higher pay; sounded like a steal to me. So, I shipped off to this jungle in the middle of God-knows-where together with my friends and squad mates; people I had already made a strong bond with just in boot camp. Staff Sergeant John ‘Deer’ Denell; that’s who I left as.
I’ll remember sitting on that plane and landing in Da Nang forever; it was like stepping onto another planet. The plane ride itself was also unforgettable; not because something happened or what some of my friends did, but because of a short nap I took. That’s when I met them…
“So, how long you think this war is gonna last?” the specialist sitting next to me asked.
“A week maybe?” I joked. “Or maybe we should ask the pilot to re-route this bird to Hanoi and let us demand an unconditional surrender right now.”
“Very funny, Sergeant.”
Specialist Wilson was the squad’s radioman and ‘fresh face’. He seemed to make sure everything went the way it was supposed to go, though not to the degree that it made him an absolute buzz kill. To him, things were usually pretty official, for the most part. Still, I’d rather have an official guy who was good at his job than a lazy guy who sucked at it, especially when it came to the radio carrier. Being official meant you listened to the rules, and that would keep you alive…most of the time, that is.
“But really,” Wilson said. “How long? A few years, maybe? It took the French forever before they were kicked out, if I recall right.”
“Well we aren’t the French, huh Deer?” another squadmate, Bishop, replied from his seat behind us.
What a lot of people thought was that a squad was only around five guys, but it was actually more like ten. These squads are broken down into fire teams four men each; a team leader, a grenadier, a rifleman, and an automatic rifleman. The team leader does exactly what it sounds like he does, lead the team; and the TL as we called it was usually a regular Sergeant. The rifleman was there mostly just to balance out the firepower with a normal rifle while a grenadier’s weapon was equipped with a grenade launcher at the bottom, hence the name, and the auto rifle carried a machine gun for heavy fire. Including myself and Wilson, my squad had ten men in it; ten friends that I’ll never forget.
“I don’t know how long it’ll take, guys. But the quicker we get there the quicker it’ll be over with,” I said.
God, I wish I had been right about that.
“I sure hope you’re right, Sergeant,” Wilson said.
“You really should stop worrying about it, Spec.”
“Yea sir, but…you mind if I ask you something, sir?”
“Go ahead.”
“Are you…well…are you a little worried you…might not come back?”
“You’re asking if I’m scared,” I replied, not so much as a question as restating what he said in a simpler form.
“Well, yes sir, to put it bluntly. I am a little,” Wilson said. “Even after all the training, there’s still a chance of it happening. I know if just one thing goes wrong, or someone screws up, or if we just run in on some bad luck, someone could die.”
“We just have to be careful,” I replied. “It’s not like its World War Two; we just need to work as a team and we’ll get out with no problem. These guys aren’t like the Japanese or Germans, they’re not well trained. The enemy in this country is a bunch of inexperienced kids running around the jungle with guns. The Chinese and Russians gave them some equipment, and their leaders filled their heads with ideas of a Communist utopia. They don’t have a clue what they’re about to go up against.”
I stopped and looked down at the floor of the plane for a minute.
“But, to be honest, I am a little nervous, too.”
“So, you’re like us, huh sarge?” Wilson asked.
“We’re all thinking about it, Wilson,” Corporal Lee added. “I was pretty good at baseball back home, might even be able to go Major League. You think I’m not scared of having that dream stolen from my by some fanatic rat in the jungle with a gun?”
“It’s just human nature to be scared,” Bishop said.
It was the first time I’d ever heard him call me ‘Sarge’ instead of Sergeant. Usually when he started acting deep like this, his official sense went away. I kind of wanted to correct him; the ‘Sarge’ nickname had been put down in the dirt, at least at my training camp. I guess some habits die harder than others.
“Yea, and I’m human, too. But, who wouldn’t be a little worried?” I asked. “The threat of your life, everything you’ve ever worked for, just ending in a flash like that; it’s creepy. Still, someone’s got to do it, and that’s us.”
I slouched back in my seat, not wanting to explain much more.
“So, there’s the basics of it for ya’, squad,” I said, closing my eyes. “Now if you all don’t mind, I’d like some shut-eye before we reach Da Nang.”
I thought I heard a ‘yes sir’ to my side, but I just ignored it. I had actually been up early in the morning to get ready for the trip. An uncomfortable seat and noisy plane wasn’t going to stop me from getting some rest. I’ve always wondered what would happen if I didn’t take that nap.
I am not the kind of guy who has strange dreams; and even when I do, I don’t remember them. Nope, most of the times it’s close eyes, darkness, open eyes again; same thing over and over. But I knew something was different in this dream; for one thing I knew I was in it.
“What?” I asked, opening my eyes and waking up.
Where ever I was, it was dark; it felt rather odd, too. Rubbing my eyes, I felt some leaves hitting my skin. Lying on my back, I could tell I was in a bush; or rather, a large group of bushes. It was pretty thick, too. I couldn’t see any sunlight coming through, or maybe it was just night time.
“When the hell did this happen?” I asked. “Wasn’t I sleeping? Wait, am I dreaming?”
As if to answer my question, I heard noises; more specifically, voices. They sounded rather…feminine, like a bunch of little girls playing a game. It sounded rather…happy, a different kind of happy than the kind I felt; something warmer and…calming to it.
Sitting up, I also noticed I wasn’t in my uniform. Everything that I had with me was gone. The only thing I had was a white t-shirt and a pair of shorts and shoes from home. Of course, why would I need my military gear in a dream like this, or any dream for that matter?
“Alright, Pinkie; one game of hide-and-seek.”
That was a rather odd name.
“Oh, thanks!” I heard one of them squeal. “It’ll be real quick; I promise!”
I reached my hand through a cluster of leaves moved them aside, making a hole in the thick bush. The sunlight streamed in immediately and I had to shut my eyes for a minute to adjust. When I opened them, what I saw was a little stunning to me.
Those voices had come from horses; well, not real horses, but some kind of equine. No, these horses were colored like crayons, they were small, and they looked rather odd; it seemed like a little girl’s cartoon to me. It only got worse when I noticed that two of them had wings and another two had horns. And their talking just lost me completely.
I shook my head lightly before coming to a final realization; this is a dream, it’s supposed to be like this. My surprise turned into fascination and I began to ask why I would dream this type of thing. I don’t usually dream, and when I do, it isn’t something like this. Does this mean something?
“One….two…three...”
Looked back through the opening and saw the pink one counting with her head hidden against a tree stump. The others were rushing about finding spots to hide in. They seemed like a bunch of innocent children on a playground.
That’s also when I realized something I didn’t want to admit right away; they were adorable. Really, they were just unbelievably cute. They looked kinder than a basket of kittens and puppies. I don’t know why, nor can I thoroughly explain it, but they made me feel like a kid again.
There were six of them in total, each different from the last; not just in color, but in the personality they gave off. For example, there was white one who’s hair, or mane I think, was done in a very elegant style; as if some high up barber had done her hair. The blue tomboy with rainbow hair flew up high in the clouds for her spot. I was pretty sure that was cheating; there was no way the little pink one could get up there without wings. It all seemed so childish in a good way, like there was something still pure in the world.
Unfortunately, the purple one chose my hiding spot as hers, as well. Before I even noticed it, a purple unicorn jumped into my bush, and fell on top of me. Both of us were knocked down to the ground and grunted a good deal as we sat back up.
I was a little surprised, but not frightened; it was, after all, just a dream. Sure, I’d never had a dream like this before, but it was still a dream; and dreams can’t hurt you. To me it was an interesting turn of events that could lead out in any number of directions. Her reaction to me, on the other hand, was a bit more extreme; her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open, just like something out of a cartoon, which made perfect sense to me. I just continued to stare back into her gaze, waiting for something to happen. Apparently, she had never seen anything like me before, either, which was also a little strange. I expected the dream to stop there, but it didn’t. Instead, the purple horse spoke one question to me.
“Wha-what…are you?”
That was when I woke up.
“Staff Sergeant, wake up,” Wilson said.
“Huh?”
“We’re over Vietnam now, sir. It’s Just outside your window.”
I looked out of my window and was greeted by a sight that seemed so beautiful at the time. The country below us was lush and green; as if man had never touched this corner of Earth before. The jungle rolled on and on over the mountains and hills in an endless sea of green, punctured only by tiny dots and lines of villages and dirt roads.
“Doesn’t look all that bad, huh?”
“It’s hard to believe that place down there is full of guys that want to kill us,” I said, being totally honest.
“Best believe it, Sarge; it’s true,” Private Silver said. “From what I’ve heard from the instructors here, it’s all too real.”
The United States had actually been sending instructors to South Vietnam since the 1950’s, back when we were still knee deep in Korea. It had all started under Eisenhower as a limited support mission to teach the South to fight against Communists, and that was it. Our advisors had never been directly targeted by the Communists.
The next president was Kennedy, and he tried to follow the same basic steps. But as it continued growing, avoiding it directly became difficult. He had to begin increasing the numbers of advisors; sending in Green Berets and creating the MCAV, Military Assistance Command-Vietnam, to further their education. No matter what he did, he was killed in Dallas by a sniper, and then Lyndon Johnston took the office, and the war.
“So, how long were we going to be spending here?” Wilson asked again.
“I don’t know, Wilson,” I sighed, getting tired of his asking. “They told us it would take around eight weeks for the bombing to take effect.”
“Just eight weeks? Then why are they sending the division’s first brigade here next year; and us, by extension.”
The Maddox incident occurred earlier this year, when three North Vietnamese torpedo boats attacked the destroyer U.S.S. Maddox in the Gulf of Tonkin. In response, congress passed the Gulf of Tonkin resolution, giving Johnston the means to take whatever steps he saw necessary to win. His first retaliation was going to be a strategic bombing on the North; no doubt he planned to send troops like us in regardless.
“Because whether or not the bombing is effective, they need people on the ground to finish the job; they can’t count the bodies from thousands of feet up in the air,” I explained.
“Nor can they find the Viet Cong,” Bishop said.
The Viet Cong had many names; VC, Victor Charlie, etc. They were the Communist guerrilla force that was active in South Vietnam. Growing up in the fifties, we had all heard about the ‘Red Scare’ with secret Communist sympathizers and guerrillas threatening an uprising in the states. Most of those fifth columnists proved nothing more than paranoia fanned by people like Senator Joe McCarthy. But here, it was all too real; the explosions, the Communists, the lack of trust you could have for anyone in a country you didn’t even know.
“Hey Deer, we’re landing; stop daydreaming and put your belt back on like the pilot said,” Silver said. “What would happen if the plane crashed and you got killed before the war even got started?”
I hated to admit that he was right, I daydreamed a tad too much.
“Doesn’t really matter if we go down or not,” I replied jokingly. “We’re airborne; our job is to jump out of planes.”
“Not into a jungle that thick, we’re not,” Bishop said. “We’re using helicopters here, thank God.”
“You and them fancy new flyin’ machines,” I said in a drawl. “You got no respect for tradition, boy.”
“If tradition means getting my chute caught in a tree and breaking bones, then you’d be right,” he said in return. “I didn’t go through training like that and come all the way here just to get killed by a tree.”
“Boy, you’d better change that attitude of yer’s before the rest of the one-oh-one divi gets out here.”
The 101st wasn’t really due into the country until the next year, 1965. We got sent in ahead as just a little ‘forward recon’ as we called it, looking around and learning on how things worked so that the men that came in would have someone to lead them; ‘no combat missions yet’, they said. It felt like an honor, being the first 101st boots to be on the ground in the country, even if we weren’t going to be doing anything for a year’s time.
That must have caught an officer’s attention; having a squad of well trained, well-armed, fresh soldiers lazing about base for a year just learning what kind of plants can give a guy a bad rash. When it’s put that way, I wasn’t a fan of it either. Either way, our little dream of ‘getting acquainted’ with the country for a year ended as soon as we got off the plane and an officer said we could be requisitioned by any unit in need of our services, whatever those might be. It felt a little like being played or used at first, but we weren’t exactly in a position to argue; that’s not how the army works, challenging some order because you want to be lazy. I told the guys that we would just have to get used to it.
“Hey Bishop,” I called. “Mind if I ask you something?”
He shot a confused look at me before replying.
“Uh, yea, shoot Deer.”
“I’ve told you guys that I don’t dream a lot, right?”
“No,” he said.
“Oh…well I don’t,” I explained. “Usually I just close my eyes, open them, and pop; it’s a few hours later and I’m recharged and ready. I don’t dream.”
“You never had a dream before?”
“No no, I have. It’s just that when I do, it’s something menial or stupid that lasts two seconds and I forget what it’s about as soon as a wake up.”
“Oh yea, I’ve had those plenty of time,” he replied. “Where are you going with this, Sergeant? Did you have one during your nap?”
“Yea, except it wasn’t one like that, it’s one I can remember perfectly.”
“Really?” he asked. “Huh, well what was it about?”
“Now no jokes about me pussying out or anything like that, cause this is getting to me legit. When I fell asleep, I realized at once that I was dreaming,” I said.
“You mean a lucid dream.”
“Yea, that’s it,” I replied. “And when I was there, I was in a bunch of bushes, and when I looked through them, there were these horses there, except they weren’t horses; they were smaller and each was painted a different color.”
“That does sound weird, Sarge.”
“It gets weirder,” I explained. “Apparently, they could talk, and each one sounded like a little girl. They all acted like humans; hell, they even looked kinda like humans here and there. They were playing a game of hide-and-seek and then the unicorn runs-”
“Whoa, hold up; you said a unicorn?”
“Yea, there were unicorns and pegasi there, too.”
“That’s nuts, man.”
“But yea, they were playing and there was this purple unicorn and she jumped into my bush for a hiding spot. When she ran into me, she looked a little stunned and asked me what I was before I woke up again.”
Bishop looked at me like I was trying to mess with him, but must have realized I was being honest with him.
“Jeez, sir,” he said. “I don’t know what to say; might have made a joke if you hadn’t told us not to…”
“Why did you think I dreamt of that” I asked Bishop. “Do you think it’s symbolic; like it’s supposed to mean something?”
“Ah, I don’t know, Sergeant; I’m not a psychiatrist,” he said. “If you honestly want to know what I think, it was probably just a reaction to the anxiety of coming here.”
“You think so?” I asked.
“I guess so; you’re a little nervous and your head is just trying to deal with it,” he suggested. “I really wouldn’t worry about it if I were you; there are more important things to fret about.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said.
God I wished he was right, but…maybe I’m glad he was wrong…
“I hope so, too,” he said. “But like I said, it’s just a dream, while this is the real world. We have to worry about things in the real world, things we can control.”
“Yea…yea.”
The plane began its descent, and the canopy of the jungle became flatter and flatter as the bird’s eye view turned back to normal. The contact was a bit bumpy as the back wheels of the plane hitting the tarmac, but the aircraft soon stopped where it was scheduled to and powered down. Stepping off, we were greeted by an officer in a neat, rather official looking uniform.
“Hey, are you the guys from the 101st?” he asked.
“Yes sir, that’s us,” I replied, “you going to be taking us to our new home, sir?”
“That’s it, Sergeant,” he said. “Let me be the first to welcome you all to Vietnam.”
This was the beginning of my journey, the one I never saw coming. It started with the war and ended with the war. Indeed, the war’s journey and my own seemed intertwined at some points along the road. So that’s where our journey started; in Da Nang in late 1964.
Year one, day one, hour one.
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A Platoon crossover? You are fucking amazing!
3426008
It's not actually Platoon (though that would be good) just the cover art best represents everything the character will go through and feel like. The main focus is still Vietnam because I've yet to see a good story that pays tribute to the vets of that war and what they went through, which I think Platoon did a good job at representing.
3426008 The cover is from Tropic Thunder. You should see it. It is fucking hilarious!
3426020 I thought that scene was spoofing scenes with overacting.
3426089
It's actually from Platoon; which, in turn, copied it from a real-life photo of a soldier in Vietnam.
2.bp.blogspot.com/-JpWQZEKvD3w/UE1k_HvCblI/AAAAAAAAAc4/sf2BygS-loM/s1600/Platoon_greenspon.jpeg
3426132 Ok, and Tropic Thunder just copied it from Platoon. I get it now.
3426151
Tropic Thunder was a parody of all Vietnam/Jungle war movies. Saw that shortly after it came out. Funny as hell.
3426020
So it isn't a Platoon crossover but instead the idea that Platoon represents and portrays? Still sounds awesome.
3426238 I agree. I couldn't even tell that it was Robert Downey, Jr playing Kirk Lazarus until he took off the makeup! But my favorite guy is Jeff Portnoy. He is just funny!
Extremely interesting. Never seen anything like this. Fav'd, liked, etc.
Dude, I'm not military yet, but I gotta say, I think you pretty much nailed the Vietnam theme here. The uncertainty of the soldiers, the terrain being really nice but with hidden dangers... Great work. Keep it coming.
3431552
Thanks, I hope so. I'm not watching Vietnam in HD over and over for nothing.
I had a third cousin that was a tunel rat in Vietnam.
Overall, good intro to the story. Two glaring things.
First off, NEVER call a NCO "Sir." That will get your head torn off so fast you won't even be able to crap yourself. Sergeant or their full rank will work, unless they allow "Sarge" but thats on a personal basis.
Second, unless the guy was a butter bar, men coming in wouldn't be met at the strip by a member of the O club. Much simpler to send PFC numbnuts to fetch the new guys before reporting. Also, officers in uniform ALWAYS get a salute unless overruled the higher ups.
10/10 Best Story ever.
Cuộc chiến tranh của Việt Nam năm 1975
Didn't salute a uniformed officer? The kiss of death.